


Falling With Style

by Kitfaust



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Earth, Heaven, Hell, Limbo, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:48:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22012852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitfaust/pseuds/Kitfaust
Summary: Aziraphale is thinking about his relationship with Crowley as Crowley has been given an ultimatium to adjust the balance of the world after the events of Adam Young.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/God (Good Omens), Crowley/Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: The Good Omens Library





	1. The Ultimatium

Icarus had been the first. For those that remembered. That were old enough to remember.  
For them, memories are like silent movies except the ones that mattered and the ones that caused pain. However, he hadn’t fallen purposely. Icarus had fallen by mistake. The first angel to fall for a mistake. Aziraphale dwelled upon the idea. But he had no clue why. It was a ridiculous notion. He closed the book firmly, unintentionally knocking over a glass of sherry he had left on the arm of his chair. “ Bother”. he muttered to himself. He waved his hand and the glass and its contents replaced itself on the arm. The plan was going to be a problem. Particularly to hide from Crowley. Aziraphale downed the sherry and decided to find a new hiding place for the book. Before he could, he heard the locked door opening. “Hello?” A woman dressed in white stood in front of him. She had a cropped blonde hairstyle and a small wooden cane. “May I help you?” “Hello, Angel of the Western Gate. It’s been a while". He felt all the colour fade from his face. “Oh.” She smiled. “May I enter?” Her accent was so crisp that Aziraphale felt that it could cut him in two. “Of course, Lord.” 

Crowley was debating. Correction. He was debating himself. He had woken up grumpy and now he couldn’t find his favourite denim jeans.He liked them as they accentuated his legs and Crowley also knew that it helped distract the angel’s attention. Finally after a 10 minute pillage and rampage which had destroyed half of his walk in wardrobe but and successfully found his beloved jeans, Crowley decided to have some coffee. After all a demon had mischief and temptation to unleash on those small helpless creatures known as human beings. Well, that’s what he had thought before a flamed door frame appeared in from of him with the large letters PLEASE KNOCK embossed onto the door. Crowley would have been surprised if he was a human or an angel. So he did the sensible thing. He kicked the door very loudly. The door opened gracefully which was strangely unusual for a door that was on fire. “Well, hello”. The Commander in Chief stood before him. Lucifer. How like the Morning star to burn so brightly. “I think it's time for a little catch up chat, don’t you think?” Lucifer was dressed in what he assumed to be an Alexander McQueen suit with a streak of blood printed across the lapel and his left sleeve. Not unusual also that the King of Hell to be wearing leopard print slippers. You see, God made and loved all creatures great and small. Lucifer adored and tamed all animals fierce and tall. “Coffee?” Crowley offered. “ No, Ta. It makes me jittery on the job.” “Whiskey then?” Lucifer smiled. “Lovely”. The drinks were made and the demons were satisfied with their concoctions. They were comfortable in their silence. Until Lucifer spoke. “We go back, don’t we Crowley?” “Eternity.” He remember when the gang had jumped. It was still a sharp and painful memory. No one would ever know what it felt like having your wings burnt to a crisp and slowly growing up back into black velvet. Crowley looked over the brim of his glasses. “Well, you know that I don’t fuck around.” Lucifer miracled a cigarette in front of Crowley and lit it briskly. “I have decided that you need a change of scene”

Crowley was taken aback. “Change of scene?” Lucifer exhaled the smoke which formed small rings with a fork through them. “I need a new second in command.” And you thought that Crowley had nothing better to do.” Lucifer let out a short chuckle. “Well, except for averting the end of the world and pissing off an older brother, I would say you have. So I have a choice to offer. Either become my second-in-command or…” “ Or what?” Crowley looked with a horrific thought in his head. “Oh no” Lucifer grimaced “Kill the angel known as Aziraphale.”


	2. The Ultimatium Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley hear from their superiors.

Crowley stood. “Why?” Lucifer extinguished his cigarette on the coffee table leaving a black mark. “Because it is better to blame someone than feel responsible for disrupting a 6000 year old plan or to have sensual feelings for said person.” Crowley’s mouth fell open as he sat back down in shock. Lucifer stood and commanded the whiskey to return to the bottle. “Crowley, you need to get rid of the problem or take the easy way out.” Crowley couldn’t reply. It was too much to take in. Lucifer glared at him. “I’m sorry, it’s what needs to be done.” Crowley felt empty and angry. “ “Why is the easy way out so hard?” He said as he took off his glasses, wiping his eyes. Lucifer stared at him as though expecting the question to be said. “Because life wouldn’t be worth living if it was easy.” He clicked his fingers and was gone. Crowley felt like he could breathe again only to start to cry for the first time in decades. He threw his glasses against the wall letting them smash into pieces. Through his pain-stricken eyes, he could make out the bottle of whiskey on the side. It was then in his hands and then to his mouth. He would let the sharpness of the alcohol taken him hostage for the rest of the day. 

Aziraphale had made a cup of cocoa for himself and a cup of Earl Grey tea for God.  
Actually all he gave was a cup because only the almighty know what she really likes. Otherwise how could she be all-knowing? “I suppose you’re not expecting to see me for a few years.” “ Not really”. She smiled, a small pleasure that God allows herself. “It’s good to expect the unexpected”. He sipped his cocoa in silence. “ I’m afraid that I bring bad tidings . You must know that we have known your plan to fall from our grace for a while.” Aziraphale placed his cup on his desk. “It is only an idea Lord. Nothing more.” “Unfortunately. She continued. An idea can erupt roots elsewhere. A contract has been drawn out by Hell for your swift death from Lucifer himself.  
Your assassin is to be the demon known as Crowley.” God then stood with the assistance of the cane. “So it is to be killed or to kill. I must stay mute on this as my influence should not affect your decision. As Lucifer can not influence Crowley.” Aziraphale could not say anything. In fact his cup of cocoa drank itself and then vanish into thin air. God continued “ I supposed it isn’t fair. Seeing how close the both of you have become”. He pulled himself together straightening his posture. “Quite. When it this suppose to take place?” “Tomorrow. I am unsure of the exact time. But it is tomorrow and please, ineffablity has not place in this”. And with that the Lord took her leave. In her place lay the cane now slightly discoloured, half black and half white. Aziraphale stood motionless with a single tear in his eye resisting escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets angsty, because i'm evil. HAHAHAH. Actually its going to become a M Night Shyamalan which is a twist on a twist on another twist.. like ice cream. *Runs to find Mint Chocolate chip ice cream*


	3. The Pain of The Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley feel the shock of what has to be done

Crowley woke with a headache that felt like someone had beaten him over the head with a shovel.   
He struggled from his place of rest, conveniently the small sheepskin that lay by his bed. He wasn’t sure what time it was but he knew it wasn’t the day. Crowley removed the headache as swiftly as he could manage. He checked his phone, there was no new messages. But then he saw his right hand. It was marked by a symbol. One he knew very well. Cain’s mark. “ You think this is funny? Bastards!” He shouted. It wasn’t fair. To be marked before the murder. The murder he would have to commit. They were teasing him maliciously. But it also meant they were giving him a chance to see the angel before the choice. Crowley dialled the number but he didn’t connect the call. It needed to be in person. So off he went in his black jeans and snakeskin boots. Aziraphale had to stretch his wings. They felt tight and cramped. After God had left, he unleashed himself up into the high chasms of the shop. He like to think of it as his small perch, a place to sit with his wings open and a little bit closer to Heaven. Above the shop he kept the books that only he desired. Some copies were around 700 years old. He pulled out one from the hidden shelves amongst the timbered blocks. A copy of Mother Shipton’s prophecies. He remembered when Crowley had saved his books after the bomb had fallen. It was then that he had first felt that incredible pulse in his heart. The first moment he had truly loved someone but understood that he was out of reach. Aziraphale placed it back into the small cubby hole and miracled it shut. He now stood in front of a wood door with no lock. Now the shock hit him. The pain. The absolute pain in his chest of heartbreak. He banged against the new door. Again and again and again. Now the pain were in his hands. His bloody and bruised hands. The doorbell went off. Aziraphale put one of his hands over his mouth. He was almost crying. “Zira?” He heard his voice before he saw his face. The demon who would kill him, the man he loved. A drop of blood fell into the shop landing simply in front of Crowley. “What do you want?” “To talk? What’s happened?” Aziraphale took a slow sombre breath before retreating back down to face the truth.


	4. A Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley confesses.

Crowley watched as Aziraphale floated gracefully back to the centre of the shop. There was a renaissance beauty to his entrance. But then he saw his hands. "Angel, What did you do?" Aziraphale folded back his wings and pushed past Crowley, ignoring his question. But then against his better judgment, he followed. In his back room he watched as the angel unbuttoned his shirt revealing the prominent outline of his shoulder blades. "Crowley, please be patient." He heard. Crowley retreated back into the shop. He settled in a chair by the window and miracled a black coffee into his hand. He took a strong sip and waited for the immortal that he had loved for so long. Aziraphale walked in wearing a white collared shirt but his hands were still bloodied and starting to bruise. “Angel, you hands.” “Its not important. I had an accident. It’s not as if i can heal them. After all, my days are numbered.” Crowley noticed that there was slight hesitation in his voice. “Angel.” Before he could say anything Aziraphale had held up his hand. “I don’t have anything else to say”. Crowley stood up placing his coffee on the desk. “I don’t want to do this.” Aziraphale turned his back, his hand to his mouth. A small moan escaped between his fingers. “I have no choice. Lucifer himself arrived at my flat and told me it was either you or me.” Crowley could himself start to shout “Do you think i want to lose the man i love?” There was silence. Aziraphale looked over, his eyes and his hands were bloodshot. Crowley tried to say something but he could not speak. “What can we do?” Aziraphale finally said. Crowley approached him taking his hands in the angel’s. As his wounds healed, Crowley spoke softly. “Let us share the burden and enjoy the time that we have left with each other”. He removed his glasses, his eyes were no longer snake-like. They were green like the leaves of spring. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but i haven’t had the courage to. Even when you were spirited away, i felt like i had lost part of me. The part that made me feel, well. Angelic”. His hands held Aziraphale’s tightly. “We have time to live a little. Let’s live for now.” Aziraphale smiled. He pulled Crowley into an embrace taking him quite by surprise. It felt warm. The good kind. For a moment they could be in love and nothing could touch them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There has been 5 snowstorms in the last 4 days so cabin fever has slowly set in. Also this is a little bit mushy because one of my best friends is going to hospital for heart surgery and im in the wrong part of the world to support her. So this is dedicated to Anna.
> 
> Also to accompany this chapter and the next: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aoneUSFfCa8


	5. The Last Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Time has come to say goodbye

It was simple. The spoken place had to be where both Heaven and Hell could meet. St Paul's Cathedral. Little do the humans who spend their days walking in and out of the main hub of the building realise that as the square was being rebuilt after the various calamities that had befallen the site, Heaven and Hell had made a deal. One of those deals that everyone wins. But one of the underlying, small printed clauses was that to uphold the deal, a sacrifice from each side would have to be offered every 100 years.   
Gabriel stood facing the cathedral dressed in his traditional turtleneck with a grey scarf and complimenting the ensemble with a long grey trench coat. "And so it begins again." Beelzebub stood at the other end with fresh compost on his face and an old sex pistols black suit. He shouted back "So it does. But they are bloody late." He pulled out a dirty squashed cigarette packet. He picked a slightly bent cigarette and lit it. "Oi Angel" Gabriel sighed. One of the thing he loathed was ugly shouting. Especially when they knew his name. After all he was the fucking angel Gabriel. "What?" "You want a cig?" He sighed again. "Alright." The cigarette packet flew through the air and landed in Gabriel's hand fresh and clean. The cigarette was crisp and white. He lit the cigarette but there was no smoke. This is because it was not an ethereal part of being an angel. He tried to throw it back but it landed in the middle of the bricked square. A platform appeared, one side was black and the other was ivory. But Heaven and Hell were not observant. Around the back of the Cathedral arriving on foot were the two men in question taking their time. Aziraphale and Crowley had spent the evening before and the early morning reminiscing of their times together. King Arthur's reign, the Great Fire (which Crowley confirmed was his failed attempt of trying to tempt a baker boy). And finally meeting Adam. "Why don't we ask him?" One of them said. "He's busy." "Busy? Doing what?" "He's growing up." But as they had spoke, a gust of wind opened the shop door. Aziraphale had walked over to close the door, he heard a voice spoke "I heard you talking about me."

Adam Young the antichrist stood perched against a bookshelf. He wore a Bowie Blackstar shirt and black jeans with a denim jacket. His hair was slightly longer that he almost look like Jim Morrison of the Doors. "Oh Adam." He is interrupted from whatever he was going to say by Adam who suddenly starts to hover. His eyes are scarlet and piercing. " I heard whisperings from the Orders. This is what can be said. On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day, two shall meet but one will leave. Unless a selfless act occurs, a sacrifice must be delivered and a body lain in state. And with those words Adam was gone. 

Before they entered the square, Crowley turned to Aziraphale. As the sunlight shone on the pair, the angel saw his eyes change.Crowley was no longer a demon nor an angel. He was a sinner. His eyes were green and his short red hair glistened. Crowley felt the change as he approached the beginning of the bricks. “Angel, no matter what happens.” Aziraphale brushed his cheek with his fingers. “I know. I forgive you.” Crowley leaned forward pinning him against a wall. With one arm against the wall and the other on Aziraphale’s waist he kissed him chastely. Their lips fitted between each other so perfectly. When they broke the kiss, Aziraphale opened his eyes and held Crowley’s hand and then he let go. Crowley turned away and walked forward. “Crowley?” He did not turn. “Yes?” “I’ve always loved you with my whole existence. I love you.” And then he entered the square.

“I'm here, let's get on with it then.” Crowley held up his hands, his false bravado taking control. “You look different,Demon”. Gabriel called out “He’s no longer a demon when he enters the square, just as there is no angel. " Crowley glanced at Aziraphale as he entered. His face was wet and his suit was slightly torn. When they positioned themselves on the platforms, Crowley realised that there were no wings on the angels back. Only bloodied scars. “Angel?” Aziraphale took a deep breath and with tears stinging his eyes he said “I am ready.” Crowley stood with his back to the angel and awaited the signal. What was it Adam had said? Beelzebub stepped forward and placed a small pistol in Crowley’s hand. “One silver bullet and one shot”. Crowley nodded. But then he remembered. One selfless act. He looked up at the Cathedral and waited for the bell. At the first stroke of eleven a shot rang out and a body fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coronavirus may scare us but indoors we can let our imaginations run wild. 
> 
> Please leave comments and any opinions. I was listening to Max Richter while I was writing which it made it a little more dramatic.


	6. Crowley's Passing

It was silent. The only sound that can be heard was the slow shallow breathing of Aziraphale. Gabriel dropped his cigarette and rushed forward. Beelzebub disappeared back into the ground. Aziraphale turned from his platform. His back felt like it was on fire. Crowley was knelt on the ground, looking down. The gun was on the ground next to him. Aziraphale touched his shoulder and saw that Crowley was gripping his abdomen. “ Oh God, Crowley.” Crowley laughed quietly “There, no one wins.” And then he gave away. Aziraphale caught him in his arms “Why did you do it?” He felt the tears sting the corners of his eyes. It was evident that Beelzebub was reporting back to Hell about Crowley’s self sacrifice. Crowley looked up. “Because it was easier to lose myself than to lose you.” Aziraphale looked into Crowley’s eyes. His beautiful eyes and started to cry. “Crowley, dear Crowley please let me see your wound.” Crowley moved his hands. Aziraphale knew then that for the first time in his whole existence that he was powerless. He turned to Gabriel “Please, do something.” Gabriel stood over him with a poker face, revealing nothing. “No,” Aziraphale screamed “Do something. You son of a bitch.” Gabriel knelt down next to him. “You think you are the only one to sacrifice someone?” Aziraphale knew then what had made Gabriel so stoic, so hateful. He had taken part too and had lost his other half. Gabriel felt in his pocket and pressed something into Aziraphale’s hand. “Take this. But do not look until it is over.” And then he was gone. “Crowley, I wish we had had more time.” Crowley looked up. “We did, a whole millennia and I loved every moment of it.” He began to breath slower. “Aziraphale, I don’t want to go.” Crowley’s body went limp and his eyes closed with a single tear. And a small smile on his lips. No one heard an angel’s cry. Instead they heard a spurned lover’s heart break.   
As the blood from Crowley’s wound fell against the bricks, the square changed back into the cathedral square. The clock chimed past eleven and Aziraphale was left alone with a bloodied suit on the ground. He looked into his hand and saw what Gabriel had given him. It was a Memento Mori ring, Remember the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry.


	7. Meeting between Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Aftermath of the selfless act, Lucifer meets an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are references to Dante's Hell, if unsure look it up! It's an interesting concept. Also Lucifer is dressed in McQueen cus why not? And thanks for the great feedback and the nice comments so far. Again I'm sorry and not sorry. Peace out!

Today it seemed to focus on what he missed when he was on Earth. Of course, he missed her.  
There was no one he could admit this as they had been left behind when he was forced to leave the glittery city that had secrets. No, today the leader of hell missed clouds. When he had fallen with his other legionnaires he remembered how blue the sky was, the clarity of his decision and the clouds that moulded around their bodies like a protection blanket as they descended towards Earth. Now he was divulging in his head, which must have looked odd as he had not realised that Beelzebub had been standing a few feet from for a few minutes. He gestured for the demon to approach. And then the fury struck Lucifer like a stab wound that appears after the knife has been pulled out. “He is not here. The bastard.” He screamed so loud that it echoed through the endless acres of Hell. “FUCK.” Lucifer launched himself out of his throne and threw open the doors that led to the labyrinth-like corridors, the echoes of screams rang from different dark rooms. Lucifer thought about what he had just heard. A selfless act had been performed by a demon. It was almost sickening. Yet, he knew he was in trouble which became evident after he rounded a corner and was faced with a familiar figure at the end of the corridor. 

A blonde woman in a white suit holding a cane. “Hello Lucifer.” “Hello Mother.” She smiled. “I think it’s time we have a little chat.” He gestured to an empty room. “Why the cane?” God smiled and said gently “I sometimes need support. My balance is not always stable. I feel it’s the same with you.” “Well, I try not to doubt myself anymore.” They settled opposite each other at a long narrow wooden table. Their seats morphed into comfortable velvet dining chairs that are once in use in a now-disgraced politician’s house. A Politician that was now hanging within the jowls of circle 7. The screams echoed through the corridors louder. Lucifer sighed. He clicked his fingers which closed the door. “ So I suppose that I am owed the pleasure because of the ceremony.” God placed her cane on the table. “ Yes, and I want to know what happened to the demon Crowley.” Lucifer felt uneasy. “It seems that he is still in limbo. After all he committed a selfless act but it still constitutes as a suicide.” God leaned forward so she was uncomfortably in his space, her hands lay flat against the table. “Well, a selfless act is jurisdiction of my realm. So unless you need another purveyor of your circular labyrinth, I reckon you should release him to me. Because it doesn’t do to play favourites.” Lucifer pondered the suggestion. “But what will you do with him? Reclaim him for some ineffable plan go yours?” God stood “You know what he said about his fall? He felt he was hanging with the wrong people. Let him go so he can have a better beginning. And I’ll make sure you have what you want. Just think, not many people get what they want.” Lucifer sighed and held out his hand. “I trust you,Mother”. She shook his hand and with her cane carved out a doorway which was familiar to him. Lucifer produced from his pocket, a snow globe. He tapped it with his forefinger revealing a small shadow. He held it to her as she held the cane to him. As it touched his hand, it turned into a key. He stepped forward and unlocked the door. There was a figure who stood in front of him “Lucifer?” She said softly. “Detective.” He replied. There was silence as they embraced. The door closed. God smiled and walked away. There was more to take care of.


	8. Mourning and A New Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale mourns and Crowley finds himself in a peculiar position

He had somehow made his way back to the bookshop. Pale, in shock with a bloodied shirt. The door opened to its master which was lucky as he had lost the key somewhere. Only when the door had swung shut behind him did Aziraphale collapse on the floor and cried. It hurt for him to breathe. How could someone deal with separation? He clinged to his chest. It felt like his heart was giving up. Suddenly he felt someone lift him into his chair by his desk. “Breathe in and then out slowly”. Aziraphale tried without acknowledging the pain. The figure handed him a handkerchief. Aziraphale looked up Gabriel. “Thank you.” “I am sorry” He replied as he took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. “ I was the same. When it came against myself and Anna. She was so beautiful and human. In my existence, I have loved two and she was one of them. And I had to let her go.” Aziraphale was now calm. “ Is that why you have been so harsh.” Gabriel sighed. “If it were an easy thing to do, would it be worth doing?” Gabriel took the handkerchief and waved it over his hand revealing a small ring and Crowley’s glasses. Aziraphale took them and placed each on his desk. Gabriel patted his shoulder and left the angel to his grieving. 

Crowley awoke. Around him was grey and white. He stretched out and realised his wings were spread wide. As he watched, he realised that they were slowly fading, the blackness lightened then disappeared. He tried to exhale but it didn’t work. That was when he realised he was neither alive nor dead. He was in limbo. Crowley cried out but no sound came out. He tried to walk but found that he was stationary. Finally out of sheer frustration, he kicked out landing on a small part of the ground. His wings folded away as he realised that he was dressed in his old black robes and barefooted. Yet there was a hole, right by his heart. No voice, no heart, nowhere. Crowley tried to control himself but nothing could stop him from silently breaking down. But then out of nowhere appeared a phone on a small card table. It started to ring. He picked it up slowly bringing the receiver up to his ear. “In the jurisdiction of God’s laws, The demon Crowley has been chosen to return to Earth as a human being in possession of angelic powers. Your sacrifice has been nullified. But be warned. Not every being gets a second chance.” Suddenly Crowley watched as his body started to disintegrate into the holes of the reciever. He cried out before disappearing shouting one word. “AZIRAPHALE”. 

The bookshop shook briefly, the books from the hidden rafters came loose and fell to the centre of the shop. One particular book that had remained hidden for decades, snuck out of its prison falling to the ground so hard, that the spine snapped with a massive crack. But then, it was still and quiet. The only sound that could be heard was the slow steps of London waking up to a new day. The book that had fallen was a love story. A forbidden love as old as the Earth itself. It was an unspoken tale. But now the pages were blank. Instead there were four words. SO IT BEGINS AGAIN. In a small flat in Shadwell, a young woman woke up. Her brow glistened and her eyes filled with tears which fell on her cheeks. She did not know why but it was as if she had fallen from the sky. She stood and walked to the bathroom. She ran the water and washed her face. As she wiped her face, her eyes glanced the reflection in the mirror. She saw the tanned face staring back, with snake eyes widening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a new chapter that took a while to write. But with this lockdown, we do have all the time in the world.   
> Please enjoy and comment! And check out Sigrid's song Dynamite which is perfect for this story <3

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuous work in progress dedicated to my dear friends as i felt that Good Omens needed a hint more romantic drama. Please let me know feelings of the first of many chapters ;)


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